


Graveyard Shift

by TheFandomLesbian



Series: Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [55]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, foxxay - Freeform, raulson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23322763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian
Summary: Realizing Misty has a great deal of insomnia to battle, Cordelia changes her text tone to something loud so she will awaken whenever Misty needs her.
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Series: Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [55]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1214643
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	Graveyard Shift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unika542](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=unika542).



> For a prompt based on the old Tumblr post about a girl changing her text tone to the loudest one so her friend will wake her up when he needs her, and in the end, they're in a relationship.

Cordelia burned the midnight oil in her room, leaning over her bed. She had spread out ancient tomes as she planned class plans for the following weeks. The work of the Supreme was never finished, but she had to try to get her act together for the number of students she was now responsible for. Her council, not much more than students themselves, helped as they could, but there were only so many of them in a large school, and they all had their own haunts to deal with.  _ Some more than others,  _ Cordelia realized, sucking on her lower lip. Misty’s eyes hadn’t been the same since Cordelia had retrieved her from hell. They were emptier, less light, now. 

Cell phone buzzing, Cordelia glanced at the screen.  _ Yikes. Three in the morning.  _ But Misty’s name on the notification caught her eye. She opened it. “You up?” Misty had asked her. 

Pursing her lips, Cordelia reclined in her bed. The pillows were so luxurious where she struck her head, and with their touch, she realized for the first time how exhausted she was. “Yeah,” she texted back. “You okay?” 

The gray bubble of Misty’s reply appeared and disappeared and appeared and disappeared again. Cordelia waited. Then, finally, Misty texted her, “No.” Cordelia frowned and reached for her reading glasses, sensing this conversation was going to be long enough that squinting would give her a headache. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Can’t sleep. Nightmares.” 

Cordelia didn’t know why she was surprised. Misty had endured a great ordeal—several, actually. She couldn’t expect to walk away from everything unscathed. “Do you want to tell me about it?” 

A gif appeared of a cat shaking its head. “I don’t want to think about it.” She sent Cordelia another gif of a fat baby laughing. “Are you going to bed? I don’t want to keep you up.” 

A smile graced Cordelia’s face at the sight of the chubby baby kicking its legs in its crib. She rolled onto her side, holding her phone out. “No, I’m gonna be up for awhile yet.” It was true; she was going to be up as long as Misty needed her. “Pick your poison: fat babies, sad puppies, evil kittens.” 

Misty sent a crying-laughing emoji. “Hit me with your best shot.” 

Cordelia did so. She fired off photo after photo of chubby babies, sad-faced puppies with all of their hanging folds, and kittens laughing with unsheathed claws at explosions in the background. A few of them, Misty sent back to her with captions added to make them into memes. Each one made Cordelia laugh; Misty had a brilliant sense of humor. “You’re funny,” Cordelia sent back to her, and she found a gif of a guy doubling over laughing and slapping his knee. 

A heart appeared. “Thank you, Miss Cordelia. I appreciate it.” 

“Are you okay now?” 

“I will be. I’ll let you sleep.” 

“I’m here if you need me, ever.” Another heart emoji answered her, and Cordelia closed the conversation. She was tired… but she didn’t trust that Misty was okay, like she said she would be. She opened her settings and changed Misty’s text tone to a stupid foghorn noise. Madison liked to sneak behind her back at times and change all of her text tones to the foghorn noise. It always caught her off-guard, and she hoped it would work to get her attention if Misty needed her again. She blinked at Misty's picture on the text conversation. She was beautiful.  _ I hope I can help her.  _

…

About a week passed before Cordelia’s phone made the foghorn noise. This time, it did wake her up from a dead sleep. She rolled over, fumbling around for her phone on the charger. Holding her phone away from her face, she squinted at the screen. Misty’s name topped the notification. “Are you awake?” 

Cordelia flicked on the bedside lamp and sat up, putting on her reading glasses. “Yeah. What’s up?” 

“I’m lonely.” 

Cordelia’s heart chipped off at the sight of those two little words. Misty was asking her for help… She needed a friend.  _ I’m here for her.  _ “What can I do to help?” she asked. 

“Can we just talk for awhile?” 

“Sure.” Cordelia scrolled through her camera roll, looking for a silly picture to send Misty. It took her a moment to land on a picture of a puppy hugging a kitten, but once she did, she tapped it and forwarded it into their conversation. 

Misty didn’t give her the answer she was looking for. “Aw.”

_ Two letters?  _ Cordelia thought.  _ I have to be able to do better than that.  _ If puppies, kittens, and other infants of all species wouldn’t cheer Misty up, she had to up her game. That meant  _ asking _ Misty. “What’s bothering you?” She tacked a heart emoji onto the end, hoping to entice Misty to answer her honestly.

It worked. “I smell smoke whenever I wak up. I can’ scape it. It follow me from my dream.” Her hands were shaking, Cordelia noticed, the way her words didn’t fit together exactly right.  _ She’s not okay. _ But then, the little gray typing bubble appeared again, and Misty sent a fuzzy picture of the night sky. “Moon is beutiful tonite. Stars brite.” The camera wouldn’t focus on the sky, making nothing but little streaks of light on a black background, like Cordelia’s astigmatism. 

Whatever was wrong with Misty, Cordelia didn’t think she could fix it via text. Those anxious, shaky hands would come between them. She needed to use her speaking words, not her thumbs. “Where are you?” 

“Roof.” 

Frowning, Cordelia donned her robe and slipped her phone into its pocket, and then she tiptoed out of her bedroom. The ladder to Spalding’s attic was down. Cordelia climbed up it, careful not to get any splinters in her hands, and emerged in his bedroom, filled with weird antique dolls and a horrible stench like rotting bodies. “Ugh.”  _ We’ve gotta clean this room out. _ She didn’t know what had happened to Spalding, but clearly he was gone for good, and if they allowed that odor to go unchecked, they would be lucky if they didn’t get the building condemned. 

The window stood wide open, the silver moonlight flowing into the room. On the flattest part of the roof, Misty rested, stared down at her phone and a lit joint in her other hand. Smoke curled from its tip and formed rings from her open mouth. Her hands shuddered with anxiety. Her hair was tousled, as if from tossing and turning for hours. She wore only a sheer nightgown, and her flesh formed goosebumps all over her limbs. The wind carried the smell of pot away from her. 

Cordelia crawled onto the roof, using her feet to brace herself against the shingles. “Hey.” Misty jumped in surprise, blinking back at her, and she started looking for a place to hide her lit joint. “Hey—It’s okay. You don’t have to hide anything from me.” She sat beside Misty. Her fingers still trembled. Cordelia took Misty by the hand and flattened out her fingers. “Talk to me.” 

“Just needed to calm my nerves,” Misty mumbled. She offered the joint to Cordelia. “Want some?” 

Had it been anyone else, Cordelia would’ve refused, but it was Misty, and Cordelia wanted to make sure she felt welcomed and acknowledged and understood, so she accepted the joint and took a long, deep hit on it. Her lungs crackled and burned. She battled with herself to keep from coughing so she could hold in the deep breath as she passed the lit joint back to Misty. Her brain clouded up, all fuzzy and soft. She coughed, unable to shake the piercing pain in her chest. “Jesus,” she gasped. She leaned back. Dizziness overwhelmed her. “That’s some strong shit.” 

“Yeah.” Misty kept puffing on it. “You alright?” Cordelia lay on her back, gazing up at the stars. Misty was right. They were beautiful tonight. The whole sky had her in awe. Misty grinned down at her and copied her, lying back on the roof. “Ain’t it beautiful?”

“Mhm.” Cordelia didn’t feel as chilly now. She kept Misty’s hand in hers. “Do you come out here a lot?” 

“Whenever I can’t sleep, unless it’s raining,” Misty confirmed. “Sometimes when it’s raining…” She gave the joint back to Cordelia, who took another hit. The second one didn’t cramp her lungs as badly. “This is the only place I feel like—like a normal person,” she whispered. “The cold air, and the stars… I don’t know. It makes me feel. It’s the only time I ever really do feel.” When she took the lit joint from Cordelia, she took a final hit from it before it disintegrated into nothing, and she dropped it from the roof. “I feel so numb…” 

Misty’s hand in hers was bony but warm. Cordelia gave it a squeeze. She tingled all over.  _ That’s some good stuff. _ She turned her head to look at Misty. “I want to help.” The wind carried her voice. A small, sad smile touched Misty’s face. “What can I do?”

“You’re here.” 

_ But that’s not enough. _ Cordelia couldn’t heal Misty. “When did it start?” she asked.

Long, spidery fingers shifted in Cordelia’s, taking their hands from clasped to folding their fingers together in a series of mountains and valleys between their knuckles. “When he lit the match.” Misty’s eyes were distant, unfocused. In their depths, the starlight reflected. Cordelia imagined an ember there, too, lying deep in the navy tones of Misty’s eyes, only coming to the surface when she remembered her darkest hours. “The gasoline hurt when he poured it on me. It burned, kinda, like acid. And it tasted—it tasted so bad. I was choking on the vapor before I ever saw the flame. And then he struck the match. That was the last thing I felt, when he dropped it on me.” Misty’s distant eyes moved to the sky. “Now, any touch… That’s all I can remember, or I don’t feel it at all.” 

Cordelia watched her, tears budding in her eyes as the moonlight glimmered over Misty’s alabaster face. “What did it feel like?” 

Misty’s eyes flitted to Cordelia, coming into focus. “Not everything feels like something else.” She squeezed Cordelia’s hand, and then she looked away. “I’m sorry if I woke you up. I don’t want to bother you.” 

“It’s an honor.” Cordelia stroked the back of Misty’s hand with her thumb. “I care about you, Misty… I want you to be okay.” These words brought Misty’s eyes back to her face. “And maybe together, we can work on that—that not-feeling thing.”

Teary blue eyes met Cordelia’s. “It’s scary. It hurts to try to break out of it. I think I’m safer this way.” 

“But you know that’s not healthy.” Misty nodded, averting her eyes. “Maybe we can just start with a hug?” she suggested. 

Misty chuckled, a wry, quiet thing. “Okay.” She opened her arms. 

Cordelia blinked a few times up at her. Her limbs didn’t seem to want to coordinate themselves for her to sit up and meet Misty halfway. “I’m so high that if I move, I’ll fall off the roof… so you come to me?” 

Misty giggled. It was light and happy. Cordelia hoped she got to hear it many more times. Her arms wrapped around Cordelia, and her floral scent wreathed them in joy. Cordelia held onto her body as Misty helped pull her up. The world spun around. Cordelia laughed. Misty didn’t let go, and neither did Cordelia. “You can’t take your pot very well, can you?” 

“I haven’t smoked since college.” 

“You could’ve said no,” Misty pointed out gently. “I would’ve understood.” 

“I wanted you to be impressed.” 

“Impressed by you unable to move on the roof and having to roll you back inside? You’re right, I’m riveted,” Misty teased. She helped Cordelia sit up. “Thank you, Miss Cordelia.” The wind tousled her pale gold hair, almost silver beneath the full moon. “I appreciate your help.” 

Cordelia smiled. “Anytime. I don’t mind. I want to be here for you.” She fumbled for the open window and managed to land on her feet, with Misty clinging onto the back of her robe to keep her from stumbling over herself. “What was Spalding doing up here? It reeks.” 

Misty shrugged. “I looked for it, but I can’t find the source. But the dolls are super creepy.” 

“Well, we can clean it up so you don’t have to climb through it when you need the roof.” Cordelia stifled a yawn with the palm of her hand. “I bet these dolls are worth some money.” 

“Probably.” Cordelia stumbled over the opening to the ladder. “Careful, there.” Misty steadied her. “Let me go first. I’ll catch you if you’re too messed up to use the rungs like a person.” Cordelia snorted. “Sh! People are asleep. They’ll hear you.” Cordelia found this especially amusing and covered her mouth with her hand to try to muffle the sounds. Misty walked her back to her bedroom. “Get some sleep, Miss Cordelia.” 

“I will.” Cordelia paused outside the door, and Misty looked at her expectantly before sinking into another hug. “Goodnight, Misty. Text me if you need anything.”

“Thank you. I will.” 

Cordelia closed her bedroom door, but she left it unlocked, just in case Misty decided to follow her into the room. 

…

Several weeks passed. Misty interrupted Cordelia’s sleep a few times. Each time, the foghorn awoke Cordelia, and she promptly answered it. Misty shared with her, little by little, and they exchanged memes and pictures. They worked together on cleaning out the attic, so twice, Cordelia joined her on the roof in the middle of the night, and they watched the stars or the sunrise. 

The sunrise had never been so beautiful as it was when it struck Misty’s exhausted face and rumpled hair. 

Cordelia had just started to drift off to sleep when a ragged scream pierced the air, echoing through the walls. “Huh?” She pushed herself up onto her elbows and tore off her sleep mask, reaching for the lamp on her bedside table. The foghorn noise blinged off thrice in succession. She jumped out of the bed and dropped her phone. “Goddammit!” She fumbled around on the floor to find it. 

Misty’s name scrolled across her screen. She slid the notification open. “HELL.” The next messaged was, “HHELP,” followed by a quick, “PLEAS.” Cordelia flung her phone back onto the mattress when Misty’s patchy cry ripped between the walls again, inconsolable and distraught. Her feet slapped the hardwood floor, rushing to Misty’s bedroom door. She flung it open. Misty thrashed on the bed in the dark. The blankets had tangled up around her like ropes. She battled them, tearing at them, as she gnashed her teeth and wailed. 

“Misty!” Her name didn’t disturb her from this nightmare. Cordelia tore the blankets from Misty’s body and tossed them onto the floor. Astonished, terrified blue eyes wrenched open, bloodshot and rimmed in red. They couldn’t focus on Cordelia; they were with her mind, somewhere far, far away. Her cell phone was facedown on the floor. “Misty—” Cordelia sat beside her on the bed. She reached to take one of Misty’s hands. 

Recoiling like Cordelia had burned her, she shrieked again. “It  _ burns! _ Don’t touch me, it  _ burns,  _ it  _ hurts! _ ” She retreated into the corner of her bed, wedging herself up against the wall. Her eyes didn’t see anything at all, nothing but shadows and flames. Hands bunched into fists, she curled up into a ball, hitting herself. “ _ Make it stop! _ ” 

Cordelia followed her. “Misty, I’m here—I’m here.” She placed her hands on Misty’s shoulders, drawing her near, pinning her arms to her sides so she couldn’t hit herself. “You’re hurting yourself.” Misty howled, unintelligible but anguished, in response to Cordelia’s gentle touch. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” She pressed Misty’s face into the crook of her neck, snot and tears and thick saliva pouring from her face over Cordelia’s robe. There was a warm, wet spot in the center of the bed, and the heady scent of urine clung to the front of Misty’s nightgown. “Misty, I’ve got you, I’m here.” 

Another wail flew from Misty’s lips, muffled against Cordelia’s shoulders, and she writhed in terror and in pain. “ _ It burns! _ ”

“It doesn’t burn, it’s in your head—you’re here, you’re safe—” The lights flicked on, and Cordelia lifted a hand to shield her face, but icy water dumped over the bed, bathing both her and Misty in a frigid shower. “J-Jesus Christ.” Using her hand, Cordelia flung the slushy droplets from her eyelashes, peering up at Madison, Zoe, Nan, and Queenie, who all hovered over the bed. Madison still clutched the bucket she had used to pitch the water onto them, her jaw set and firm. “What the hell has gotten into you girls?” 

Slowly, Madison lowered the bucket, setting it on the floor with a hollow  _ click _ . “Sorry. That’s the only thing we’ve found that works.” The girls gathered around, sitting in a circle on the piss-soaked, frigid bed, ice cubes and water pooling on the covers. “We would’ve been faster, but  _ somebody _ was occupying the upstairs tub.”

“Oh, back off,” Queenie snapped. “She hadn’t had one in weeks. I thought I could use a bath bomb in the middle of the night in peace for once.” 

Motionless and quiet, a shiver passed through Misty’s body. Cordelia looked back at her. What Madison had said was true—her teary blue eyes were lucid again. “Thank you,” Misty whispered, her voice hoarse and brittle. She didn’t let go of Cordelia, and Cordelia smoothed a hand up her back. She flinched and grimaced. The phantom pain hadn’t left her yet. Azure eyes averted to the side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake all of you again.” 

_ How many times has this happened? _ Clearly, before they’d acted fast enough to keep it from waking Cordelia—or she was an abnormally heavy sleeper, which she found unlikely. “Does this happen often?” she asked, tucking a sweaty and wet blonde curl behind Misty’s ear. Her eyes fluttered closed at the intimate touch. 

“It used to be every other night,” Zoe said, sitting cross legged on the bed in spite of the wet blankets. “Nan would hear it coming before it happened, so Queene would put a silencing spell on the room so nobody else woke up, and Madison would fill up the super soakers.”

“It was like storming the beaches of Normandy every night around four AM,” Nan affirmed with a pleased nod. 

_ No wonder they all seemed so tired all the time.  _ Cordelia was ashamed she had missed it. All this time, she had regretted the council had too much drama to support Misty the way she needed it…  _ Maybe I was the one failing Misty. _ Misty blinked a few times. “What happened to the super soakers?” she rasped. 

“You kept exploding them with your mind,” Madison reminded her, sitting beside Zoe, and her voice was unusually smooth and soothing—no hint of sarcasm or bullying. “The bucket is altogether more effective.” Misty blinked a few times, wiping the icy drops from her eyelashes. She carried a dazed look, her trembling hand in Cordelia’s. Cordelia didn’t allow an inch of space between them. “But your bed is ruined. C’mon, get up. You can have Zoe’s bed. It’s her turn to wash your bedclothes.” 

“It was my turn the last time.”

“It’s definitely Madison’s turn,” Nan insisted.

“ _ Madison _ just carried a five gallon bucket of ice water up the stairs from the backyard, so it’s somebody else’s turn,” Madison reminded them.

A wrinkle appeared between Misty’s eyebrows. “Why didn’t you just float it?” Her voice was barely audible over the rest of the girls tittering. They were so familiar with this routine. 

“Why didn’t you just float it?” Madison mimed in a high-pitched voice, and a sleepy, odd smile crossed Misty’s face, her fatigued eyes crinkling at the corners when she breathed a chuckle out of her nose. “When  _ I’m _ having panic attacks in the middle of the night, you can float all the water you want.” 

Cordelia pressed her hand into the small of Misty’s back. “Don’t worry about the bedclothes, girls. I’ll get them tomorrow.” It was the least she could do, given she had somehow managed to miss  _ all of this  _ for months. Misty clutched her hand tightly, like she feared she would leave, but Cordelia wasn’t going anywhere. “Come with me.” Misty hitched a tight breath when Cordelia touched new parts of her body. “You can take a bath, and I’ll get you some clean clothes. You can stay with me.” Gangly limbs unfolded from where Misty had wedged herself in the corner between her bed and the wall, and she slid across the soaking sheets to follow Cordelia’s gentle touch. 

Misty looked back at all of them. “Thank you,” she uttered. Their gazes followed them down the hallway. Cordelia opened her bedroom door and gently closed it behind them, the latch clicking into place. Misty didn’t make eye contact with her. “I’m awful sorry I woke you up.” 

A hand went to caress Misty’s cheek, but she flinched away. Cordelia kept her hand to herself. “Misty, I’m not upset… I want to take care of you.” A harsh shudder passed through Misty’s limbs. “Let me draw you a bath, okay?” 

“Cold water, please—” Misty’s voice cracked. 

“Okay,” Cordelia agreed. She did as she promised, running the water as cold as it would go and filling it with bubbles She gathered up a towel and a nightgown and folded them in the bathroom where Misty could reach them, and then she left the door open for Misty, who stood like a phantom, gazing at the floor. “Hey.” She didn’t touch Misty again. “Are you okay?” 

Misty nodded. They both understood it was a lie. “Can I leave the bathroom door open?” she whispered. “So I can see you?” 

“Of course. I’ll stay right in bed.” Misty hesitated before she extended a shaking hand to Cordelia. Cordelia took her by the fingertips, not touching anything else, and brushed the pads of her fingers across them. “Call me if you need anything.” She lingered there until Misty pulled away, and she headed for the bathroom. Misty left the door to the bathroom ajar, wide open, so they could see each other, and like this, she stripped herself of her clothing. 

Cordelia kept her eyes to herself, viewing only a flash of ivory skin before she turned her back and changed out of her own sodden nighty in exchange for a clean, dry one. She settled herself onto the bed, the covers drawn back from where she had flung them when she had scrambled to Misty’s side. In her haste, she had folded her phone up in the blankets, and now she reached under them to find it. As she searched, the foghorn noise rolled in. Cordelia blinked in surprise, following the noise and pulling the phone out. Misty had just texted her.  _ She took her phone with her in the bathroom, _ Cordelia realized. 

“I don’t remember texting you,” Misty said. 

A small smile touched Cordelia’s face. “I’m glad you did.” She sent a heart emoji and a heart-kiss emoji. Misty sent her a heart of a different color and some heart eyes. “Is it easier to text than talk?” 

“My throat hurts.”  _ She was screaming, _ Cordelia acknowledged. Of course her throat hurt. But then, Misty added, “My chest hurts when I have that dream. The fumes still burn. My skin still hurts.” Cordelia’s phone made the foghorn sound again. “I didn’t realize your text tone was so loud.” Another foghorn noise. 

Cordelia smiled, tilting her head back as she relaxed in the bed. “I turn it on loud at night so I’ll wake up if somebody needs something.” It was only partially a lie, that only Misty’s texts made the foghorn sound and everyone else was expected to wait until the sun came up for their chance at Cordelia’s attention. “You can use the lotion in there if you want.” She hoped the invitation would help Misty’s nerves adjust to the real world, to the awakening world, instead of being dragged back into her memory again and again. 

“Thanks.” Foghorn noise. Cordelia sent her a heart, and she listened as Misty splashed in the tub and rinsed her body and her hair. Cordelia put her phone aside. She grew sleepy, but she stayed there, sitting up against her pillows, until she heard Misty unplug the drain and all the water rush down it. From where she sat in bed, she could see Misty stepping out of the tub and hastily drying herself. She rubbed her hair and her body. This time, Cordelia couldn’t bring herself to avert her eyes—perhaps she was too tired to remember to be couth. If Misty noticed, she didn’t mind or say anything. She donned the sheer lace nightgown Cordelia had given her, and she placed her dirty clothes and the wet towel in the hamper.

Misty sat down on the bed beside Cordelia, on the edge, like she was afraid to encroach upon too much of Cordelia’s space. She shivered from head to toe. Her lips were blue with the cold. Cordelia lifted her eyes to look at her. “You’re freezing.” She pulled the covers back. “Come here, let me warm you up.” 

Blue eyes found hers, and she grimaced as she scooted along the sheet. Even the smooth fabric irritated her body. “The cold helps,” she whispered. Her lower jaw chattered. The tips of her fingers, too, were tinted gray. She lay on the pillow, facing Cordelia. Cordelia’s hands moved toward her. Misty’s whole body tensed in some terrible anticipation, her eyes wide with fear and pain. 

“Misty…” Misty’s eyes fell closed heavily with shame. Cordelia touched their fingertips against one another’s. Misty gasped quietly at the touch. She had expected something much more brutal and heavy-handed.  _ What type of people have touched her throughout her life?  _ “I won’t do anything to hurt you. Let me start with your hands… You tell me when to stop.” 

Misty nodded. Cordelia brushed her fingertips against Misty’s, drawing circles around the pad of each finger. She moved down her long, spidery fingers in a spiral to the first knuckle, and then back up to the tips. A long breath wafted from between Misty’s lips. The tension ebbed from her. “That feels nice.” Cordelia headed down again, this time spiraling her touch all the way down to the base of her fingers and coming back up again to the tips. Her face relaxed as Cordelia worked. With her next movement, she followed Misty’s hands all the way down to the wrist. 

She paused, waiting for some encouragement, and Misty gave a slight nod, urging her on. Cordelia smiled a grim smile, and she started at Misty’s fingertips again, this time meandering all the way down to her forearm. Misty’s muscles eased under her gentle touch. She rubbed the tendons and ligaments which were ordinarily so tight. She made it to Misty’s elbows, and then, following her pattern of reaching joints, she worked her way back down her arm, massaging any of the muscles that twitched beneath her touch. She reached Misty’s fingertips again, and she repeated the process, past her wrist, past her elbow, pressing her fingers deep into the muscles of Misty’s upper arms. 

As her fingers grazed the tip of Misty’s shoulder, she paused as blue eyes flickered open and found her. Misty reached for a hug, and Cordelia accepted it, wrapping Misty up in her safe embrace. “Miss Cordelia?” Misty whispered, to which Cordelia hummed her acknowledgment. “Am I the only person who makes your phone make the foghorn noise?” 

This question surprised Cordelia. But she answered it honestly. “Yes, you are.” She brushed her hand over Misty’s damp curls leaving watery streaks on the pillowcase. “Why do you ask?” 

“Maddie thought so. She texted you a few times to make sure. I didn’t hear the sound again.” Indeed, Cordelia’s phone hadn’t made a sound—Misty was the only person who had a text tone. For everyone else, it was on vibrate. “I thought she was just trying to make me feel better.”

Cordelia allowed Misty to snuggle nearer to her, face pressed against her body. “Feel better about what?” she asked. 

Azure eyes found hers in the dim light of the room. “That—That I love you.”  _ Oh. _ It struck Cordelia in the pit of her gut, these words. “Maddie thought… you know. I told her it wasn’t, but she’s been blowing up my phone regular about it since I started texting you instead of her.” 

“You used to text her instead?” Misty’s brow quirked in bewilderment, and Cordelia realized that a vague, strange, jealous answer was not what Misty had expected to hear. “Er—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to come out the way it sounded.”  _ But I did, didn’t I?  _ She was somewhat envious of Misty’s attention, not in a way she would ever act upon, but in a way that gave her a slight tingle in her tummy at the thought of Misty choosing to be with her over someone else. It made her feel victorious in a way. “She’s not wrong,” she said finally. Misty blinked, not saying anything yet. “I do… feel a certain way for you. But that’s not why I’ve been spending time with you.”

Misty smiled. “I know.” She sighed happily, easing into Cordelia’s arms. She was relaxed, worn from her ordeal, but her heavy-lidded eyes didn’t yet fall closed. “If we’re still working on the—on the not-feeling thing, maybe we could try kissing?” Misty suggested. 

A ridiculous grin crossed Cordelia’s face. She hadn’t even considered it. “I think I’d like that.” She puckered up her lips, and Misty slid forward and pressed her mouth to them gently. It was clumsy and raw and strange, them clutching each other, and when they broke away, they both were a little breathless. “That was nice.” Misty nodded. “We should do it again sometime.” 

A silly laugh left Misty’s open mouth. “I agree.” She nestled close against Cordelia. Her body was warm. “I’m tired,” she said quietly. 

Cordelia kissed the crown of her head. “Get some sleep… I’ve got you.” 

Misty fell into a dreamless sleep. 

…

The next night, Cordelia was surprised to enter her bedroom to find it empty. For some reason—and she couldn’t quite think of why—she had expected Misty to join her again. She left her door unlocked as she showered, just in case Misty decided to enter, and when she emerged, she checked her phone. No one had messaged her.  _ I’ll wait. _ Part of her wanted to text Misty first, but another part of her worried she had misinterpreted the night before completely. But the hours ticked by, ten into eleven into midnight and beyond.

By one, Cordelia couldn’t help herself any longer. “Are you okay?” She added a heart emoji. 

Immediately, Misty answered, “Yes,” and the foghorn noise buzzed. The gray speech bubble appeared and disappeared and appeared again as Misty typed more out to her. “I miss you, though.” 

Cordelia almost sighed with relief. “You too. Come over.” Within minutes, Misty tiptoed across the hall and closed the bedroom door behind her. “Hey. I was waiting for you.” She drew the covers back, and Misty folded herself underneath them. Her hair was tousled and eyes heavy.  _ She looks like she was asleep.  _ Cordelia spooned up beside her. “Are you okay?” she asked again, just in case the answer in real life would change. 

A sleepy smile touched Misty’s face. “I’m great.” She put her hand over Cordelia’s where she clasped her body. “I’m sorry… I thought maybe I had gotten everything wrong, so I didn’t want to come unless I was invited.” Her voice was heavy and thick.

Kissing the crook of her neck, Cordelia smelled her hair. “I should’ve texted sooner. I was afraid  _ I’d  _ gotten it wrong.” Misty made a happy, satisfied sound, settling down into the bed, and she fell asleep within minutes with Cordelia’s arms wrapped around her.  _ She never settles so easily. _ Cordelia was glad Misty finally had some reprieve, but some part of her was still a little curious… She reached for her phone, and she texted Misty, “I love you.”

Misty’s phone blared a siren sound. She shuddered awake. “Uh—huh?” Blind hands groped for the phone. “Delia—” She had forgotten where she was, and her hands fumbled for the phone. 

“Sweetheart, I’m right here.” Cordelia squeezed her from behind. 

Misty peeked back at her. “What the hell’d you text me for?” she grumbled, but she rolled back over and nestled happily against Cordelia’s body, purring as Cordelia stroked her hair. She rubbed her face into Cordelia’s hand. She was a satisfied cat soaking up the sunbeam as long as Cordelia was near. Cordelia’s heart swelled with joy, and she allowed Misty to settle down, holding her near and focusing on the sound of her breaths until she drifted off to sleep. 

…

Cordelia didn’t hear the foghorn very much after that. Every night, Misty would curl up beside her, and they would stay close to one another until sleep consumed them. Misty’s bad dreams woke Cordelia when she stirred in the middle of the night. She had a night terror, too, and Cordelia dragged her to the tub and dropped her in cold water. The girls were right. It worked. Then, she bathed Misty’s body in the cold water and touched just her fingertips until the rest of her skin could accept touch once again. She slathered Misty in lotion to try to soothe her aching skin. Her blue lips buffered as Cordelia helped her don a fresh nightgown she hadn’t sweated in. 

“I’m so sorry.” Misty never stopped apologizing. Cordelia refused to accept the apology; Misty had done nothing wrong, and Cordelia told her so over and over again. She combed Misty’s wet curls back out of her eyes after she washed the sweat from them. “I thought I was getting better…”

“You are,” Cordelia soothed. “You are getting better. It takes time.” She spun Misty around and kissed her hard and led her back to bed, where she eased Misty into her touch until she could accept it, and then they made love passionately. Cordelia touched Misty until no part of her body shuddered with pain or with fear. 

Swimming in the post-orgasm haze, Misty spooned Cordelia. She was barely awake. “I think I want to marry you, Delia,” she whispered against the back of Cordelia’s neck. 

Cordelia blushed. This was the most unofficial way anyone had ever proposed to her—though, granted, it was only the  _ second _ time she had ever been proposed to. “You want us to get married?” she asked, just to clarify, and Misty hummed her vivacious approval. “Alright. We can get married.” And they did less than a month later in the foyer of their home with the whole coven applauding. 

Cordelia never turned off the foghorn noise on her phone, though it only woke her now when Misty wanted to get high on the roof in the middle of the night and didn’t want anyone else to find out. Now, Misty would wake her by tugging her closer in the middle of the night, whispering sweet nothing into her hair. If she fought a nightmare, Cordelia pulled her from her dreams with gentle hands and showed her pictures of fat babies and sad puppies and evil kittens, and they took some pictures of their own, as well. They rested at ease in one another’s arms. “I’m so grateful to have you, Delia.” Misty pressed these words against her hair. 

“I’m luckier to have you, sweetheart.” Cordelia believed it to be true. 


End file.
